


Don't Swallow

by Chipper_Daily



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alien Biology, Egg Laying, Exhibitionism, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kids Don't Look, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multiple Orgasms, Oviposition, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Recreational Drug Use, Seriously this is just porn, Sex Work, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:39:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23613154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chipper_Daily/pseuds/Chipper_Daily
Summary: He had fantasized about sweeping across the stage beneath the glare of lights to the phantom thunder of imagined accolades and applause since he was a child.
Relationships: Dib/Zim (Invader Zim)
Comments: 32
Kudos: 195





	Don't Swallow

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Egg Day, one and all

The murmuring of the crowd died away as the heavy red curtain silently lifted. The cloying musk of smouldering ny hung heavy in the stagnant air, technically illegal in this quadrant, though _nothing_ was really ‘illegal’ as long as the clientele had deep enough pockets. And to secure seats for tonight’s show, the clientele must have _deep_ pockets indeed. The familiar cloying, sultry incense made Dib’s head feel as hazy as the blue-tinted smoke itself, the world around him taking on a dream-like, almost surreal quality. He could see the smoke coiling in slow, lazy spirals beneath the harsh stage lights from where he was still hidden from the audience behind the curtain offstage. The lights were kept blessedly dim over the audience itself, as the clientele preferred to remain anonymous in this particular establishment. Dib preferred it that way too, honestly. 

The other end of the stage was pitch black behind the curtain that marked the offstage, with nothing but a low chaise lounge upholstered in pure, matte white leather, bolted down to the center stage to obscure his view. Even without being able to see him, Dib knew Zim was there, and even with the small Irken’s PAK filtering out the narcotic effects of the burning ny, Dib knew Zim’s skin was faintly buzzing too. 

The Paradis prided itself on hosting the most exotic performers and shows of unrivalled rarity within the entire Delta Quadrant, let alone the red light district of Cyberflox, with tonight’s show promising an enticing mixture of both. Which meant seats could be sold at a premium, much to the brothel owner’s delight. 

Dib took a deep breath to calm his nerves, squared his shoulders, and stepped out into the harsh light.

He had fantasized about sweeping across the stage beneath the glare of lights to the phantom thunder of imagined accolades and applause since he was a child. There were no cheers here though, the audience a small sea of carefully measured neutral faces, holding drinks or poised gracefully with hands folded in precise imitations of ease. Yet Dib could still _feel_ the roar bubbling beneath the silence, anticipation as thick as the smoke in the air. 

Wispy thin blue fabric sashayed airily across his thighs, loosely tied low on his hip, the graze of soft silk as light and fleeting as a butterfly wing against his caramel skin. Dib had never considered himself a conventionally attractive person while growing up. He’d spent his teen years pendulum swinging between not caring about his appearance at all to purposefully leaning as hard as he could in the opposite direction. Hunched in the mirror at some ungodly hour of the morning with hurt and spite like bitter poison choking off the back of his throat, and the only thing that kept him from suffocating altogether was poking more holes in himself with a sewing needle he’d sterilized with a lighter. He _knew_ it was crooked and ugly, but he didn’t _care._ It matched how crooked and ugly he felt beneath his skin.

It hadn’t garnered him much positive attention back on Earth. Quite the opposite, really. 

Out _here,_ however, the clients eagerly spilled their credits to drink in the skin he’d mutilated in front of that tiny mirror in his dad’s dingy bathroom so long ago. 

Admittedly, he was only half the act- across the stage, Zim stepped in time with Dib from the darkness into the harsh light. Translucent pink shimmered against vibrant green beneath the glare with the slow, purposeful sway of Zim’s wide hips, draped low and tied loosely, like Dib’s wrap. The matching outfits (if there was enough to even call them that) had been Zim’s idea, and Dib was actually surprised at himself with how genuinely touched he was by the suggestion. Pink and blue. Rivals and equals. Despite himself, Dib had to admit it was cute. 

Cute wasn’t the first word Dib would use to describe Zim now though, under the harsh stage lights as the petite Irken strode confidently towards him. Not when he was clad in nothing beyond his flimsy hip scarf but the inky black latex stockings hugging his shapely thighs and matching gloves stretching up almost to his shoulders, tight enough to be painted on and polished to a liquid shine. Just like Dib. Unlike Dib, however, Zim’s ivy green skin was deliciously unblemished- to the untrained eye, at least. Dib was intimately familiar with the handful of small, almost unnoticeable scars that ran too deep for even Zim’s PAK to heal completely. Remnants of even incisions made with surgical precision. Tantalizing hints of where organic tissue overlapped with mechanical implants. Zim, like the rest of his species, was a walking juxtaposition of flesh and blood and steel and circuits. Dib almost didn’t want to admit how much the thought of the metal and wires entwined with Zim’s vertebrae arching sensuously beneath the little Irken’s burning skin when Dib had him bent over and begging turned him on. 

It was still a bit surreal how the tables had turned once they’d left Earth. Suddenly Zim was the dull and common one- even more so due to his height. It was only then that Zim’s inclination for screaming and making a scene started to really make sense- it was one of the few ways Dib’s vertically-challenged partner could grab any attention at _all._ Irkens seemed to be a dime a dozen out past the edges of the Milky Way galaxy. Instead, _Dib_ unexpectedly found himself the mysterious and exotic one, an imposing spectre of an undiscovered species. Perhaps not _attractive_ per se, but at the very least _memorable,_ in a haunting way. _Intriguing._ Or at least intriguing enough to pique other alien’s curiosity into opening their wallets to see him naked, anyway. Which was how they’d wound up here in the first place. 

Their ship had been damaged during a brief scuffle with another Irken vessel, and utterly _totalled_ upon crash-landing on Cyberflox, where Zim had insisted he’d be able to get the necessary parts to fix their small spacecraft. The smoking wreckage was far beyond the point of fixing by the time the duo stumbled away from the crash site. They’d been stuck there since, picking up odd jobs here and there (mostly pick-pocketing and other petty crime) to try and scrape together enough monies to buy another ship before their luck ran out, and they wound up arrested. Or shot. Or both. (Most likely both.)

They wound up settling into a cramped one-room basement suite beneath a seedy little peep show theatre crammed between an imposing member-only fetish bar and a run-down all-day waffle house deep in the red light district. Zim _hated_ it and was very much of the opinion that the landlord should be paying _them_ for staying there. But it was cheap, and the landlord didn’t ask questions or push them to sign a contract, so there they stayed. On the bright side, despite how grubby the exterior of the waffle house looked, inside was clean enough to meet the bare minimum of Zim’s standards, and the food wasn’t half bad for the price. (For Dib, at least. Zim complained every single time while eating everything anyway.) It was there they bumped into the (literal) slug who would wind up putting them on his payroll- Ukk, the owner of the famous Paradis brothel. He was fond of oozing into the waffle house to nurse his lashes after his vigorous sessions in the dungeon of the neighbouring fetish bar. 

He’d been gumming a platter of green slime in the adjacent booth from Zim & Dib, not so subtly eavesdropping while the two grimly discussed their financial woes. He made an off-hand comment that Zim should simply sell Dib’s body for sex. Monster-fuckers were a bit of a niche market, but they were a squirrely lot willing to spend an exorbitant amount for a new and excitingly weird lay. And Dib would probably fetch a pretty penny, considering Ukk had never seen anything like him before. And that was really saying something since Ukk had seen it _all._

To which Zim, as jealous and possessive of Dib as he was over anything else the tiny Irken had decided was his (perhaps even more so), responded as calmly and rationally as Dib had come to expect from his alien lover. 

By which he meant, Zim promptly attempted to disembowel the surprisingly agile man-sized slug while Dib desperately tried to wrestle the tiny green terror into submission _before_ Zim managed to burn the waffle house down around them. More because their shitty apartment was attached, and they couldn’t afford to lose their damage deposit, than out of any genuine, selfless desire to save the waffle house and the patrons within. 

Once it finally clicked that Dib was Zim’s _partner,_ not _pet,_ Ukk got _really_ excited. Dib shouldn’t have been surprised it took so long, but sometimes he forgot that Irkens typically didn’t _have_ ‘partners,’ especially outside of their own species. Apparently, Irkens had transcended their base breeding instincts, their PAKs eliminated those sorts of ‘primitive’ and ‘vulgar’ urges to allow them to focus on more important duties.

Or, at least it _should,_ as long as the PAK in question functioned properly.

Zim paused at the edge of the chaise lounge, cuing Dib to stop too. He shot his human a smug grin as he reached up to teasingly play with the silken knot holding his hip scarf in place. The little Irken _knew_ he looked good, knew all the twisted ways Dib wanted him, all the wicked things his human would do to him if only Zim would submit. Dib tilted his head back to peer down his nose at the exiled Invader as the corner of his lip twitched up into an equally cocky smirk. For every bit that Dib wanted Zim, he knew Zim was just as intensely attracted to Dib’s supposedly inferior body. And if Dib’s strange fascination with Zim raised eyebrows among other humans, then Zim’s mutual interest in Dib was downright scandalous among his own kind.

Dib reached up and tugged the knot holding his scarf in place loose as he cocked his hip to the side, the silk slipping over his skin as fleeting as a kiss from a ghost. He firmly ignored the audience shifting in their seats as the silk fluttered to the floor, eager to catch a glimpse of his unobscured skin. Zim tugged his knot free as well and pulled the shimmering pink cloth open before his human’s eyes as though the little Irken were unwrapping a gift for him. Half-lidded magenta eyes shamelessly raked down the length of Dib’s body, lingering between the human’s thighs as Zim absently flicked the tip of his absurdly long, worm-like tongue over his lip. Little slut. 

Zim would deny it to his dying breath, but Dib knew he loved this- the stage, the lights, the masses of anonymous eyes hungrily devouring his perfect little body. Zim had always wanted to be seen, to be _adored,_ but only on _his_ terms, of course. For all that Dib found the crowd unnerving, embarrassing, and distracting to the point of coming to rely on the dreamy effects of illicit ny to be able to perform at all, Zim relished the rapt attention, revelled in being publically debauched. He would grumble and complain offstage, but he couldn’t hide how he was always louder under the harsh stage lights, _wetter._ How he came harder, milking down the length of Dib’s cock with his human’s name high and sweet on his lips, but only when his voice was left to ring in the ears of strangers. 

Dib could tell how turned on Zim was from the anticipation alone. Even untouched, his slit was already swollen open and glistening wet beneath the harsh glare of the stage lights. Dib only realized he’d caught his bottom lip in his teeth when his gaze flicked back up to meet Zims, the little Irken’s eyes locked on his mouth as though in a trance and dark with desire. Dib didn’t fight a dark grin as he took a purposeful step forward and watched Zim’s eyelids flutter, still fixed on his human’s sharp teeth, his pert green lips parted obediently as his thighs pressed subtly together. Dib wondered if the tight channel of Zim’s male parts were already throbbing with arousal, painfully empty, dripping wet and ready to be stretched wide and stuffed full. Again, and again, and _again,_ until the burning heat that wracked his lover’s petite body and dissolved all other thoughts beyond _sex sex sex_ to mush was finally satisfied. 

Dib didn’t mind that, most of the time, the tiny slit between Zim’s thighs remained unresponsive and sealed shut no matter how Dib attempted to tease him open. Honestly, he was perfectly content to satiate himself with Zim’s hands and his shockingly talented mouth, or any of the assortment of toys they’d ~~stolen~~ collected during their extensive travels throughout the universe. But _this-_ this was something rare, something special, and most importantly, something _profitable._ Ukk himself had made that abundantly clear when he’d offered them a paycheck with so many digits it made Dib’s knees quiver beneath their shitty waffle house table. Zim was broken and Defective and a fucked up little xenophile, and he was a perfect match for an unhinged, messy, brittle _freak_ like Dib. So while Dib didn’t mind that they couldn’t have penetrative sex all the time, whenever they _could_ , it was, without a doubt, Dib’s absolute favourite time of the year. Year? Season? Whatever primal rhythms Irkens had evolved to follow throughout millions of years before transcending the bounds of their natural world. Ancient cycles that still held sway over Zim’s organic body, even exiled countless light years away from the planet that shaped him and isolated from the rest of his species. 

Dib gently cupped Zim’s round face in both hands and tilted his head back. He took a moment to just drink in those large, bright, almond-shaped eyes framed sweetly by the delicate flush blossoming high on the Irken’s fine cheekbones, another characteristic of the heat, before leaning in. 

He still couldn’t believe how _soft_ Zim’s lips were, considering how loud, brash, and aggressive, every other aspect of him was. Zim melted into his embrace, small hands darting up to dig his claws into Dib’s arms and Dib bit back the urge to grin into their kiss. Well, well, _someone_ was feeling a little desperate. Dib caught Zim’s lip between his teeth and tugged, ripping a soft gasp from the Irken as Zim swayed slightly on his feet. Their clients weren’t here for _soft._

Zim didn’t resist as Dib guided him to sit on the edge of the white chaise lounge and obediently twisted to face the crowd. Dib knelt on the floor at Zim’s side and pressed their lips together again as he ran his hands down Zim’s narrow ribs and over the swell of his hips, Zim’s quivering thighs pressed tightly together to preserve his dignity in front of the audience as he moaned sweetly into Dib’s mouth. 

Dib felt a bit like he was floating, the effects of the ny softening the edges of the world around him, the harsh glare of the lights blurring, and the silent audience fading away beneath raw _sensation._ His focus narrowed down to the burning points of contact between him and Zim- the languid push and pull of their lips moving against each other, the smooth expanse of Zim’s torso beneath Dib’s large hands, squirming subtly under his slow, purposeful touch. God, Zim felt _amazing_ when Dib was in this state, warm and soft and strange, he could lose himself in just touching the petite Irken like this for _hours._ However, their audience had paid for a _fantasy,_ not tenderness, so he reluctantly pulled away from Zim’s oddly sweet mouth and cracked his eyes open. 

Oh, _oh,_ Zim looked _divine_ when he was like this- Dib’s glossy black gloves stark against Zim’s flushed skin as the little Irken trembled, magenta eyes cracked open and unfocused, his hands clenched against the white leather. Between his tightly pinched legs glistened under the stage lights, he was already wet down his thighs.

Dib hummed low and took one of Zim’s sensitive antennae into his mouth, punching a breathless mewl from his lover. Dib smoothed his hands over Zim’s thighs and dipped his long fingers between the Irken’s trembling legs to lightly draw them open- to give their rapt audience what they had paid so generously for. 

To see a proud and haughty Irken Invader laid low and defiled by a member of the mysterious species he was sent to conquer. 

The five soft petals that normally kept the tight, wet, entrance into Zim’s burning body sealed shut had already curled open, pretty pink with sensitive tips flushed almost purple with want, and plump like the leaves of a succulent back on Earth. They both protected Zim’s more vulnerable reproductive organs when he wasn’t using them, and enhanced the little Irken’s pleasure when Dib pinched and stroked the firm petals when Zim was. 

Dib languidly sucked the length of Zim’s velvety soft antenna as he hooked one arm around Zim’s waist to cup his far leg under his thigh to hold his leg up and out of the way as his other hand stroked down the length of Zim’s stomach. Zim spasmed in his arms as his fingers ghosted over the little Irken’s swollen petals to press against his entrance. Thick, pink-tinted fluid welled around his fingertips as Zim squirmed to try and entice those teasing fingers into sinking deeper with a low, desperate moan. Dib didn’t give him that satisfaction, not yet, and withdrew his wet fingertips to paint Zim’s slick along the plump petals framing his slit. 

Dib took his sweet time, lightly pinching and stroking each delicate little petal with one hand, the other slipping from holding Zim’s trembling leg out of the way to rub his thumb against Zim’s exposed slit. Teasing but not entering, until the little Irken was moaning with unabashed, breathless abandon. Dib released Zim’s antenna to stare down at the plump petals. They were all identical, beyond the petal poking out from the top of Zim’s slit, which had swollen larger than the other four. He placed a soft kiss against Zim’s temple and pinched the very tip, rolling it slightly between his fingers as Zim keened and pressed his face into the crook of Dib’s neck. Dib sunk the tip of his thumb past the soft folds of Zim’s slit and ground down against the sensitive spot he knew lurked just within as he gently tugged on Zim’s petal. Zim jerked in Dib’s arms with a sharp cry, thick fluid bursting down Dib’s slick black glove to spatter stark, sticky, pink against the white leather. In the same moment, Dib gently teased Zim’s swollen petal into fully emerging from its sheath to reveal the petite Irken’s _other_ set of genitalia. That had been a surprise for them both the first time they wound up having the-whole-nine-yards sex. 

Zim had more-or-less made his peace(-ish) with his fate in the years that followed his massive misstep with the florpus hole that swallowed his former leaders and a sizable chunk of his people’s seemingly indomitable armada. What remained of their forces had been plunged almost immediately into intergalactic war, the alien armies they had once been able to cow into submission or alliance jumped at the opportunity to take down the significantly weakened Irken Empire. And in the chaos, Zim had been… forgotten. All aid was immediately severed, and his attempts to contact his people went ignored. Zim tended to gloss over the details, but from what Dib could gather, his new Tallest apparently was an old boss or something that Zim didn’t have the best history with. It left the former Invader not too keen to get his new leader’s attention. 

He was stranded. _Abandoned._

The harder he tried to ignore the tragic reality of his situation, the more he poured himself into his new self-appointed mission of _antagonizing Dib._ Or simply doing whatever it took to keep the self-proclaimed paranormal investigator’s eyes on him and him alone. Neither of them had any idea the brewing consequences of Zim shifting his entire sense of self from Irk’s Greatest Invader to hinging on his role as Earth’s Defender Dib’s Greatest Nemesis, alongside Dib’s growing disillusionment and resentment towards the rest of humanity’s willful ignorance. And Dib’s increasing height. Which was a stupidly vital ingredient to the swirling molotov cocktail of their tumultuous rivalry. All they needed to burst into a violent inferno and burn away everything they thought they were was one small, seemingly insignificant, spark. 

Dib withdrew his thumb from Zim’s slit to firmly pet down its length again as Zim mewled piteously into the nape of his neck and squirmed his discontent. Dib absently shushed him as he wrapped his other hand around the deep pink segmented tentacle arching to almost touch where Zim’s navel would be if he had one, glistening with slick beneath the stage lights. Dib was in the same boat, the head of his cock brushing the underside of his navel when Zim writhed too hard in his arms. Zim threw his head back with a wanton sigh, lips kiss swollen and cheeks flushed magnificently, as Dib firmly stroked down his length. 

He could feel Zim’s vent flutter against the pad of his thumb, throbbing and desperate, as Zim’s head rolled to tuck into the crook of Dib’s neck, his human’s name a thin, wavering plea on his lips. Dib gritted his teeth and stroked faster, harder, his other hand shifting into a more awkward position to finally plunge his long index finger into Zim’s dripping wet slit. Zim’s hand flew to clutch Dib’s broad shoulder, sharp claws hooking into bare skin as Zim curled into himself, his hips rising to allow his human easier access to his most sensitive parts. Dib rewarded the little Irken with a second finger, which Zim took with a low, grateful groan. Zim’s channel clenched around Dib’s fingers, slick, hot, and tight, thrumming rhythmically as if trying to draw the invading digits deeper. 

“You’re doing so good, Zim.” Dib purred into the little Irken’s antenna, grinning wolfishly at the way Zim’s breath hitched, how he tightened around Dib’s fingers at the praise. It wasn’t the best angle, but Dib curled his fingers deep inside of Zim’s burning body, feeling the soft flesh open sweetly to make room for him, _just for him._ He panted, hot and heavy, against Zim’s quivering antenna before slowly raking his tongue up the velvety soft length as he roughly thrust into Zim’s eager body. Zim was shaking in his arms, his bony hips awkwardly rocking between twin points of pleasure- Dib’s fingers plunging ruthlessly into his slit and Dib’s fist roughly stroking his length. Dib’s shoulder was bleeding from how tightly Zim gripped it, thin drops of red trickling down caramel skin to bead against the tight line of his latex glove. Dib didn’t mind though, he’d never found pain to be much of a deterrent. Quite the opposite, actually, the sharp points of pain filtered through the haze of ny into something much sweeter. His cock twitched, hard to the point of being almost painful. His voice dropped, husky with lust, to whisper into the curved tip of Zim’s antenna. “Such a good boy, _fuck_ Zim, you’re such a good boy.” Zim arched against his human with a high, desperate noise that trailed off into a series of rapid clicks deep in his chest. Dib grazed his teeth along Zim’s antenna as he withdrew his fingers almost entirely to slip a third into his lover’s body and _twisted._

Zim doubled over with a sharp cry, more fluid gushing down over Dib’s knuckles to stain the leather beneath him. Dib leaned back to lick his lip as he purposefully thrust into Zim’s body, just to watch the little Irken shudder in his arms. Reluctantly, he slowly withdrew his fingers, a strand of translucent pink slick stretching between Zim’s slit and Dib’s fingers shimmered under the stage lights. Dib detangled his arm from around Zim’s waist to hold his hand up to the enthralled audience, wet down to his wrist, thin strands of thick, sticky pink stretching between his fingers when he pulled them apart. He turned back to Zim in time to see him blush, a heady mix of embarrassment and arousal, and pinch his trembling legs together. 

Zim’s eyes met Dib’s, and the human grinned wickedly as he purposefully licked up the length of his index finger before popping it into his mouth. Zim always smelled faintly sweet, like warm honey and dust, but this scent seemed even more potent during his heats. The little Irken’s taste was similar to how he smelled, yet not. Both slightly sweet and oddly tart, it made Dib’s mouth tingle. He couldn’t quite put his finger on the strangely familiar flavour, but it vaguely reminded him of kombucha back on Earth. 

He could see Zim’s throat working as the Irken swallowed thickly, his magenta eyes locked on the way Dib slowly dragged his finger between his kiss swollen lips to withdraw it fully with a playful pop. Dib met his gaze with a heavy-lidded look of his own, his soft pink tongue raking across his teeth as he leaned into Zim’s space, pushing the trembling Irken to lay down as well as he could with his PAK on the chaise lounge. Dib pressed Zim’s deceptively delicate wrists into the firm padding with a low growl, his achingly hard cock pressed against Zim’s inner thigh. Zim arched against his human lover with a high moan when Dib crushed their mouths together. Dib didn’t know if Zim could taste himself on Dib’s tongue, cloying and heavy, but if he could, he clearly didn’t mind. Zim’s legs fell open around Dib’s waist as Zim bucked his hips up against him. 

Dib only broke from Zim’s sweet mouth to breathe, his head swimming and skin buzzing as he panted against the little Irken’s plush lips. Zim arched against him with a low, impatient growl, undermined by the soft clicking from deep in his chest as he ground up against Dib’s body. The exiled Invader wasn’t finished, and neither was Dib. 

He pulled away from Zim’s lips and released his wrists to reverently trail his hands down the length of the Irken’s scrawny form and down over the swell of his hips to pinch two of Zim’s petals. He stroked his thumbs firmly over the heated flesh as Zim writhed on the chaise lounge, matte green skin and glossy black latex and the liquid shine of his pink cum against the stark white leather beneath the stage lights. It was almost too much- Dib couldn’t resist leaning in and taking one of his sticky sweet little petals into his mouth and giving it a hard suck. Zim’s hips jerked beneath Dib’s chin, and he petulantly kicked Dib in the shoulder. Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to make his message clear- Enough teasing. He wanted _more._

Dib drew back to pin his petite lover against the chaise with one hand as he gripped his shaft with the other and bit his lip as his gaze flicked up to meet Zim’s. He rubbed the head of his cock against Zim’s small slit, the little Irken’s copious slick coating the sensitive, flushed tip, as Zim stilled beneath him, his legs falling obediently open as his large magenta eyes widened. Zim would never admit it out loud, but he loved this too- Dib’s height, how he towered over him, the way his human could overpower the little Irken, could force Zim into giving Dib what he wanted. Not that Dib could _actually_ overpower him, Zim’s PAK still gave him a distinct advantage, but the desire to _submit_ to a taller partner seemed almost instinctual to the short Irken. 

Finally, Dib grit his teeth and _pushed,_ Zim’s entire body spasming as his head popped into that sweet, soft slit. Zim’s mouth fell open in a silent cry, his eyes rolling back as Dib shifted his hand from guiding his cock to smooth over Zim’s thigh, and he pressed deeper. The clicking returned, rattling deep in the petite Irken’s chest as Zim’s back arched off the chaise lounge with the slow, purposeful rock of Dib’s hips, teasing deeper into Zim’s tight channel. Dib could completely lose himself in just watching himself sink, inch by inch, into Zim’s trembling body. It seemed like more than the petite Irken should be able to take, his small pink slit stretched wide around his human’s girth, but Zim was more resilient than he looked- he _had_ taken all of Dib, and he would again. In all honesty, he would probably take it as an insult if Dib tried to hold back. 

Zim bucked up against Dib’s hips, his body spasming with a high keen. Dib gripped the back of the chaise and stilled as Zim came hard around him. Dib bit the inside of his cheek and held his breath, his eyes squeezing shut, and he silently prayed he wouldn’t come too only buried halfway as Zim’s male channel tightened around him as though trying to milk his human dry. Once Dib was sure the wave had mostly passed, he re-adjusted and took Zim by the waist and watched the little Irken _shiver_ as he held him down and slid the rest of the way into his body. Whatever was making that clicking beneath Zim’s ribs trilled, low and pleading, as Zim gritted his interlocking teeth and squeezed his eyes shut. 

“Don’t forget to breathe, space-boy.” Dib purred, soft and teasing, meant for just the two of them as he ran his hands soothingly up Zim’s sides. Zim’s fingers found his, interlocking against his skin as the little Irken sucked in a shaky gasp. Dib leaned over him, his eyes sliding half-shut as he drank in Zim’s exposed skin, legs spread wide and perfectly debauched on Dib’s cock. “Ready?” He whispered as he ground his hips into that delicious warmth, the clicking in Zim’s narrow ribs vibrating against Dib’s fingertips. Zim cracked his eyes open to meet Dib’s gaze.

“Zim is ready for you to stop with the mouth noises, smelly.” He replied in a breathless hiss. 

Dib drew back, almost pulling free entirely, before snapping his hips back into Zim, punching a low groan out of the human as Zim mewled helplessly beneath him. Dib grinned as he repeated the action twice more before he pulled out entirely. Zim felt so, so _good,_ Dib would be more than happy to fuck him to completion just like that. However, they had an audience to consider. So he nudged Zim, who obediently rolled onto his side to face the crowd as Dib grabbed him behind his knee, lifting his leg up out of the way, and slid back into Zim’s soft, wet, channel. There was nothing soft or tender this time as Dib leaned over him and pounded into his Irken’s tight little body. Dib raked the nails of his free hand over the hard curve of Zim’s PAK, the alien metal maintaining a constant temperature no matter how it’s host’s skin burned, and smoothed his hand down the sensuous arch of Zim’s spine. 

If anyone had tried to tell him ten years ago, he’d wind up here, naked beneath the glare of the stage lights, high as a kite and balls deep in _Zim_ of all people in front of an audience he would have called them a liar (and probably keyed their car). 

His hand slid over the swell of Zim’s ass to slip his thumb between those green cheeks. It didn’t take long to find the small pucker he was looking for. Zim was ridiculously _wet,_ his male channel providing more than enough lubrication to slip his thumb past the slight resistance of Zim’s other entrance and press _up_ into the sensitive bundle of nerves he’d teased earlier. Zim’s antenna bolted straight upright as he doubled over with a shrill keen, pink bursting down the length of Dib’s cock as Zim’s body clenched mercilessly around him. Dib threw his head back to moan up at the ceiling and kept up his brutal pace, Zim thrashing and writhing beneath him, one gush of hot, sticky fluid after another until Dib could feel it dripping down his inner thigh. 

“I-I’m close, I’m so close,” Dib panted, his amber eyes cracked open to drink in his Irken lover, curled into himself, his thin chest heaving and claws hooked into the white leather, every breath a sweet moan and visibly shaking beneath his human’s hips. “You’re beautiful-” Dib’s voice wavered, and he knew it sounded stupid and silly, but he was teetering on the verge of one of the hardest orgasms of his entire life, and it was honestly _true._ “Oh god, you’re _perfect_ when you’re like this, ah- _fuck-_ ” Zim shattered whatever concentration Dib had with a high, sweet sound, caught somewhere between a moan and a sob, and Dib arched his back as he was swept over the edge into climax. 

Delightful after-shivers were still rippling up his spine when he came back to himself, still buried to the hilt in Zim. He pulled his thumb out first to smooth his hand up Zim’s back before gingerly pulling out of the little Irken’s abused channel. Zim flinched at the sudden emptiness, pale pink and milky white dripping from his gaping slit. Dib ran his (most) clean(-ish) hand through his hair with a low groan before leaning in to plant a quick kiss against that wonderful little vent. When he pulled away, he could taste them both on his lips. 

“ _Dib,_ ” Zim was still shaking, curled up on the couch, his male vent a sticky _mess_ while his long, thick tentacle- his female organ- was still rock hard, dripping onto the white leather from the long slit in the tip. 

“ _Shhh,_ I know.” Dib murmured softly as he hooked his hands beneath his petite lover and gently helped the Irken sit back upright, still facing the audience. It had taken them both several rounds to figure out that Zim _couldn’t_ finish completely- not without a proper _host._ Dib had found that out at the same time he realized he’d mislabeled which of Zim’s parts were male and female, with Zim’s cock halfway down his throat in the bathroom of a gas station they were about to get banned for life from on his last night on Earth. 

Dib shuffled in front of Zim, his knees aching from kneeling for so long, but Dib did his best to push that aside- they were almost done. He gently parted Zim’s trembling legs once more, this time taking the time to place a string of open-mouth kisses along the Irken’s inner thigh. Zim’s hands flew to fist in Dib’s hair as his human licked up the entire length of his shaft. Dib shot him a heated look from under his long eyelashes as he parted his plush lips to take the tip of Zim’s cock into his mouth. Zim’s head fell back with a shaky sigh as Dib twirled his tongue around the surprisingly dextrous tip, the tip of his tongue dipping playfully into the wet slit. Finally, he took pity on his petite lover and sank down the segmented length, taking as much as he could. Zim hooked his legs over Dib’s shoulders to cross his ankles behind Dib’s back as Dib bobbed up and down the length of Zim’s cock. 

Zim’s grip in his hair was so tight it hurt, Dib couldn’t breathe properly, the room was too hot and spinning, Zim’s sweet/tart taste was drowning all his other senses, and Dib could feel himself starting to get hard again. Zim was clicking so hard his whole body vibrated with it, and Dib moaned around the girth of his shaft as he hollowed his cheeks and dragged up the entire slick length. 

“ _Dib- I’m-!!!_ ” Zim managed to squeak in a high plea, his voice raw, before his breath hitched and dug his claws into Dib’s scalp and tensed. Dib stilled at the initial burst of hot fluid, just the tip of Zim’s cock buried between his lips. His eyes fluttered shut with another low moan as he _felt_ the long slit at the tip of Zim’s shaft dilate open, pulsing with unconscious contractions, felt the swell of the first round little egg, about the size of a grape, push its way through into Dib’s waiting mouth. That had been a surprise for them both the first time it happened too. (While Zim had been mortified, Dib didn’t think he’d ever masturbated so much before in his entire _life_ than he did the week following the first time Zim laid eggs in his face.) Dib teased the tip of Zim’s cock with his tongue as he felt the slit swell with a second egg, and moaned softly again as it slid free with another gush of sweet/tart fluid. 

Zim managed to lay five before he was utterly spent, his breeding spike softening to slip from between Dib’s lips and retract back into his body as the little Irken sank back into the chaise lounge, eyes glassy and narrow shoulders heaving. Dib cupped a hand over his mouth and desperately fought the urge to either cough or swallow as he blindly groped under the chair with his other hand. It didn’t take long to find the long-stemmed, wide-rimmed glass Ukk had wanted to stash there, as a grand finale of sorts. It reminded him of a martini glass back on Earth, except it was designed to hold a _very_ different vice. 

Dib stood slowly on wobbly legs to face the audience and pressed his lips to the edge of the glass. One by one, he pushed each little egg into it, along with a mouthful of pale pink fluid, and held the glass up to the entranced audience- a rare sight indeed, five tiny Irken eggs, pretty magenta pink under the stage lights. 

Applause wasn’t really a _thing_ in this particular establishment, so the finale always felt a bit flat, to Dib, at least. Then again, the thought of being cheered on by the crowd after fucking the shit out of Zim made him want to crawl under a table and die, so he wasn’t sure which was worse. He carefully laid the glass on the chaise lounge and gingerly helped Zim up onto his shaky legs. The two bowed to the audience, Dib keeping a firm grip on Zim’s arm in case the little Irken lost his balance, and then Dib swept his petite lover up in his arms and carried him off stage even before the heavy red curtains had fully descended. Knowing Zim as well as he did, his Irken would want a hot bath and a long nap, and something sweet when he woke up. And then, probably, more sex. All of which sounded perfect to Dib. 


End file.
